


The Bar

by FallenAngelAndPie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:31:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenAngelAndPie/pseuds/FallenAngelAndPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty year old Dean gets restless watching 16 year old Sam study for a test, so he takes a walk to a local bar....where he meets a beautiful stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bar

Dean had stepped out of the motel room for a few hours.  Sam was too busy studying for some history test to make conversation, there's nothing on television, their dad took off three days ago on a hunt, and Dean had made himself a new fake ID he was dying to try out at a local dive bar just a block from the motel.

The fall air was crisp and Dean could see his breath as he dug his hands into the deep pockets of his hand-me-down leather jacket.

He opened the bar and stepped into the bar, surveyed the clientel, burly, biker men, and made his way to a bar stool, took his seat and ordered a Budweiser.

"New in town?" the bartender gave Dean a quick onceover as he slid him the bottle of beer.

"Just passing through," Dean cracked a small smile as he took a sip of the beer.

Dean spun around on the stool to stare once more at the gruff men that inhabited the bar.  He had hoped that there would be atleast one beautiful woman he could hook up with in this place, but it was a complete sausagefest.

He sighed and took another sip of his beer as he leaned against the edge of the bar counter.

"Hey there," a deep voice said on Dean's left. "Heard you tell Carl you're new in town."

"Wha-what?" Dean straightened up, sputter out his beer. "Um, yeah, I'm, uh, just passing through."

Dean glanced over at his neighbour.  The man beside him had deep blue eyes, dark brown hair, a crooked smile and facial stubble, probably from not shaving in two days. 

"I could show you around sometime, if you'd like," the man smiled, resting his right hand on Dean's upper thigh.

Dean gulped, eyes fixed on the other man's hand, "Well, uh, my dad will be back soon and we'll be gone.  Probably tomorrow.  Family business."

"Oh, I see," the man leaned closer into Dean, not removing his hand from Dean's thigh, "Guess I should start the tour tonight."

Dean gulped as he felt the stranger's lips press onto his own.  He pressed his right hand into the man's chest, pushing him away.

"Um, I'm, uh, I don't swing that way, man," Dean breathed heavily. "I just wanted a beer.  Thanks for the offer to show me around, though, but I have to get back to my brother, make sure he's still doing his homework."

Dean jumped off his stool and started for the door.

He paused, thinking about the stranger's lips.

He closed his eyes, thinking about the man's scent: leather, cigars, whiskey, and oil.

Something stirred in him.  He wanted to turn around, just get one more look at the man.

No.  He couldn't.  Why would he need to?  He said it, he doesn't swing that way.

He gulped, taking three more steps forward before pausing again.

On second thought, he had had thoughts like this before, and his dad was away.  Sam was back at the motel.  No one would even know what he did tonight.  He could easily just turn around, storm back up to the man, grab him by the shirt and plant a big ol' wet one on his lips.

Dean puffed out his chest as he took a deep breath.

"Just one night, Dean.  Just to get this out of your system.  It means nothing.  Aboslutely nothing," he muttered to himself.

Dean spun around and marched back to his spot at the bar and tapped the man on the shoulder, "Um, is, uh, is your offer still, um, is it still on the table?"

The handsome stranger smiled, "A night tour of the town?"

Dean nodded.

"Of course.  Anything for someone as beautiful as you," the man slid off his chair, put his left arm around Dean's waist and slapped his butt. "Come on.  Let's get out of here."

The man pulled Dean towards the door, but suddenly Dean started getting cold feet.  What if his dad came home early?  What if he saw him leaving the bar with this man draped around him?

"No," Dean froze. "No, I changed my mind.  I don't want a tour.  I want to stay here.  In this bar."

The man turned around and stared into Dean's green eyes, "Are you scared, boy?"

Dean coughed and looked at his feet.

"Oh, you're not out yet," the man wrapped his right arm around Dean's waist and lifted the young hunter's chin with his left index finger. "Okay, we can stay in here.  Talk.  Maybe shoot some pool.  And no one has to know what goes on in this bar."

The man softly pressed his lips to the crook of Dean's mouth, before slowly moving their lips into full contact.

Dean breathed in the other man's scent.

They did just what the man said they would.  They talked, about anything and everything.  They shot some pool, they told jokes, they got drunk and they kissed a few times.

He promised himself that he would never speak of this night to anyone.

And he never did.

After a few years, the memory of this night faded into the back of Dean's memory, until eventually he could barely remember anything about the drunken fling.

Until he met another stranger, another stranger with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes.


End file.
